On my mind
by bakusuki
Summary: Spencer seems to think that Mathilda is more talented in blading than she thinks - he states this, he's always been a point of curiosity to her anyway, now they're talking... And she looks like the embodiment of a rose garden, and he embodies the beautiful glow of the sun. Mathilda/Spencer fic.


Good morning, good afternoon and good evening (depending on where you are within the world) my little loves! Recently my love of Mathilda/Spencer hit me like a bolt of lightning, and I was so thankful to know that I wasn't the only one that shipped them together - so I'm kind of writing a thing because my love for them is pouring out of me, and I have to write it. _If you don't like the idea of Mathilda/Spencer then you don't have to read, but don't come about reading this and then providing negative views just because you don't like it_. _Everyone is welcome to like and ship what they want_.

 **Disclaimer:** _I do not own Beyblade, nor am I claiming to have any rights to it's making - whether it's the manga/anime_. _I also haven't read the manga in years, mostly because my parents threw them out, but yeah, this is probably going to be focused on the anime. As I said previously, I am not claiming any rights to Beyblade, and all rights are reserved for the creator, but hey, if I could make changes - I would, and everything would be cute as hell, because hey, why not? I'm kidding._

Anyway, enough of me rambling - I hope you enjoy. As I say all the time, and will continue to say: **your views and reviews mean the absolute world to me and totally keep me going** , so if you would like to leave a review, please feel free to do so, it would really help, and would mean a lot. Of course, do not feel pressured to leave a comment if one: you can't think of anything, or two: you don't want too - it's perfectly fine, just thank you so much for viewing. - Ellis.

* * *

They had been the group of boys that you get warned about, the sort of boys where rumours are escalated and forced upon you, merely because you even looked within their direction. They had been the sort of boys that have you questioning their capability, and whether they are actually a human, for they perform and behave as mere machinery. _What a cruel thing to consider them as_ \- she thinks. Then again, Mathilda supposed that the world had a obtained cruel way of viewing people that didn't seem to fit in with the expected norm of society, or had simply proven that they were unworthy of a fair trail. But hadn't Barthez Battalion and Blitzkrieg Boys been different from one another any way? Barthez had performed with only shame, and at least, Blitzkrieg had fought with their own power. _No_. Mathilda wouldn't settle for the idea that her and her team, _her friends_ , had been the bad guys - nor had she viewed the Blitzkrieg Boys in the same light that society did. Broken misfits who had yet to adhere to a mainstream society.

Miguel had fallen gracefully, more graceful than ever - perhaps because he had lost with truth, never mind that he'd lost to Kai, - he had returned to her side with a smile. A genuine smile at that. There had been a flash of coral amongst glorious tiers, a heaven swept tinge had danced upon his cheeks, and in the efforts of doing so, had brought dimples to life. Mathilda had never noticed that Miguel had dimples, then again, how had it been possible to smile around Barthez? That's when Mathilda had discovered that Kai had complimented Miguel and his fire power, rather than to disregard him, or later refer to him as another tier within the pillar of victory.

"I don't think they're _that_ bad." Mathilda had mused, and at first she thought she had been silent, or at least mumbled it to herself - _at least then it would provide her with time to change what she had said_ \- but Claude had heard and had simply looked over his shoulder to graze over the existence of the Blitzkrieg Boys. _Together_. Kai - the unbroken one - who rose from ashes and scorned your flesh and your very existence with the passion of the phoenix, and Tala, the elegant captain. He held Russian winters within his hands, ice cold and sharp as broken glass winds pressed tight to his digits. Bryan had been mysterious to her, to begin with. He seemed to brood a lot, and held the heart of a falcon within the hue of his eyes; so he wielded the wind, and generated the very storms that were plunged upon them. Spencer had her questioning - he truly was an enigma. He's unknown to Mathilda - _to some extent anyway_ \- she knew of the power that had embedded itself amongst his layers of flesh, she knew of his name, she also knew that he stood as the tallest on the team, and often kept the others in line. Everything else? Had piqued her curiosity.

* * *

That had been then. Two years ago to be precise. The last World Championships had seen Tyson as the victor, but the outcome had only just been confirmed. Miguel had been in some sort of awe over Kai and his ability, never mind the unwilling nature to throw in the towel. Perhaps that was because both wielded the magnificent beauty, that was fire, and in some ways, Mathilda was a little jealous that there was some sort of connection between two wielders of fire. Jealousy was such a silly little notion, and Mathilda barely felt it. A lot had changed since then. BEGA had happened, and the very future that Boris had attempted to bestow upon people had been frightening, terrifying in every sense of the word. Crowds that had once been split down the middle, uncertain as to whether to cheer for Mathilda and her team, or despise them, had come together in a rejoicing mechanism. They'd returned to this tournament under a new name, and with different meaning. Their building as a team, meant that they could build more with other teams, typically the Blitzkrieg Boys, who had made it rather clear that they would take the title this year. No wonder they were a crowd favourite.

The teams had been offered the opportunity to train in a large facility, that would meet all needs and techniques, but this meant intense moment of bonding, and then the ultimate discomfort you received when you had to battle them to ensure your qualifying place. This lunch time, Blitzkrieg and her team were separated amongst two tables, but in close proximity to actually converse with one another. Kai spoke with Claude most of the time - Claude told interesting stories about old legends, and folklore to do with his background. Kai had been roped in the moment Claude had mentioned legends, and Kai had even referred to legends that he knew of. It was nice actually, to see Claude speak about something that he was genuinely passionate about, and to also see Kai being somewhat vocal. Miguel often grouped with Tala, maybe because there was a mutual understanding between them as team captains, though Miguel was more interested in the intellectual side of blading. He designed the blades for the team, perfecting them and his own in a unique way, even going to the extent of placing his own twist on them. Tala had confirmed on numerous occasions that Ian constructed theirs, but attempting to converse with him at lunch period was a no. Ian was the small blader that she'd seen recently. He was a little taller than her, but he spent more time between Bryan and Aaron making small bets between themselves, and on few occasions, she had sworn that they had bet who could put more in theirs mouths. _Boys will boys_. Spencer had been more of the silent but welcoming type. He didn't say a lot, he simply watched from a far and ate in peace. He never ate a lot, and Mathilda always wondered why. He'd passed her a smile a few times, even a nod of acknowledgement, and she'd done the very same. Today had been different however. In some aspects.

Kai still spoke with Claude, in fact, they had their heads buried between the pages of an old book. Claude enjoyed reading old legends when he wasn't training, or had a moment to himself, and Kai had confirmed that he love reading, no matter the time nor place. Miguel talked about new tweaks, and Tala had seemed to trust Miguel enough to actually allow Miguel to look at his blade. Mathilda hadn't been able to tell if the look on Miguel's face was because Tala had trusted him enough to hold Wolborg, or if because Miguel was generally in a trance by the sheer beauty of Wolborg. Nonetheless, his expression read pure excitement. Aaron gossiping about something with Bryan, and the falcon wielder occasionally dropped out of conversation to sneer a remark with Ian's direction - who appeared wounded and was actually nursing two sore feet. They'd bet who could run the most laps before Tala would suggest lunch period, and apparently Bryan and Aaron had accumulated 63 laps between them, declaring Ian as the sore loser. And Spencer? Well now he was sat in front of her, and she'd be idly poking at the vegetable collection on her plate.

"You blade really well, by the way." His voice is wonderful, it's low and heavy - but there's a kindness to it - and Mathilda carefully brings herself to look towards him. He has soft eyes, and snow cast flesh - the entire Blitzkrieg team does, but Spencer's just seemed paler, but not too pale. Or maybe it just seemed paler because Mathilda was looking in directly in the face. Her gaze is a pink hue, saccharine sweet - like her, Claude often states - she has soft eyes, with a heavenly mass of thick lasses that dance pleasantly.

"Me?" An innocent inquiry. It was mostly the team that complimented her - they said she was extraordinary, but she never felt as such, and she certainly didn't believe she was in the same league as Mariah, or Julia for that matter. Never mind to have her blading skills complimented by someone whose very name dominated sports reports. Her voice comes like a lullaby, a sweet chorus, a heavenly hue dipped within the roseate touch of fallen petals. It's the most pleasant thing that Spencer has ever heard, and inwardly he sighs at the sheer beauty of it. He nods finally, a blond mass of hair falling loose in some areas, stray strands that he refrains from restraining. So they spoke. They talked about all sorts, in fact, by the end, Mathilda was certain that they had spoken about everything, and their conversation had even bled into training periods. Mathilda had learnt that Spencer had a keen eye in terms of looking after his teammates, and that Spencer was surprised that Claude managed to even engage with Kai, because he always closed in upon himself. She'd found out that Ian hadn't come to the other tournament because Tala had deemed him too young, and it was also he who engineered their blades, well most of them... Kai engineered his own. Spencer had learnt that Mathilda enjoyed nature, and aside from her bitbeast, flowers were her greatest love. He discovered that she was fond of scenery and keen on photographing them. He enjoyed books, _the really old classical novels_ , and had even delved into romantic chapters. She had discovered that his life had been a cycle of grey and black, and she offered colour and light. He likes dogs, and she really loves birds - one time she built a nest for a small bird, and later in became a regular home. He's fascinated by space and the beauty of the stars, and she's in love with autumn and the colour of leaves that dance around her.

In other words - Spencer had discovered that Mathilda was shy and colourful, and was the very reason for the sun coming up in the morning. To him, it seemed like roses would bloom within her wake, and their very thorns wouldn't dream of harming her. To her, he was the very reason for the birds to sing within the morning, he was the cause of their chorus and songbird hymn. Actually she had imagined what he'd look like drenched within the glow of loose petals and blossoms, pretty crown dotted around that golden halo of his. He imagined that birds sung to her in the morning, and she sung back. But to Spencer, he was a walking disaster and Mathilda was a rose garden, in every sense of it.

"I think we should train together, at some point." Spencer finally states. His eyes hadn't left, in fact, he was rather certain that since they had started talking, his eyes hadn't left her once. "If you would like too." Finally, he rests his fork amongst his plate. Once again, he hadn't eaten a lot, and if anything, he had to eat it cold because he got himself far too engrossed in conversation, to even satisfy himself with food. Mathilda mused about her silence for a short period, and Spencer suddenly felt that he might have overstepped, but she smiles - _oh Gods_ \- she's smiling at him, and she doesn't hold fear within the heavenly colour of her eyes.

"I'd like that. Yes, I think I'd like that a lot. I think Miguel is going to work on a few tweaks for mine and Aaron's beyblades. So I'd quite like to, afterwards. Maybe?" She's pleasant. She looks like one of the princesses within the old novels he used to read. Her lips seem soft and hold the same pretty tinge that her eyes do. He notes that her cheeks hold the glow of a thousand roses, and just underneath her eyes and close to her nose, are a few amber flakes. In other words, she looks like a porcelain doll, agile and delicate - as precious gold - but she looks like the sort that holds a fury within her heart and storms at her finger tips. A girl capable of bringing a nation to their knees, if she so wanted too.

"Ian has plenty of spare beyblades. He likes to make tweaks to ours and is strict on the whole: _not slacking in training_. So he brings other blades for us to train with. I'm pretty certain he won't mind you lending one." Gods, he has a smile that glows enough to ignite the solar system. He probably shines brighter than the sun, but he's modest enough to not realise it. How gentle, he seems - Mathilda's very own, soft and friendly giant. Turns out, it was _all the little things_ that both enjoyed about the other.

* * *

This was so pure and soft, and there is definitely going to be another chapter because Spencer and Mathilda are my little loves. I know it kind of took a little way to bust on in there to the main point, but here I eventually got there, and I really liked the idea of Mathilda and Spencer getting he opportunity to talk to one another. I've already drafted out the second chapter, so I'm probably going to start writing that out soon.

 **A few points that shoulder be made:** _this has been influenced by a few ideas that some sweet as hell friends have dropped into my messages, apparently the idea of Spencer being the embodiment of fricking stars and space and Mathilda being the embodiment of nature is too pure. So for the sweet angels who dropped their ideas on me, this is for you. One again, I am not claiming any rights to Beyblade. I have no rights. I simply a humble bean that adores a show about spinning tops. All rights go to the creator of the manga/anime. Also if you were not interested in this, or didn't like it - that's fine, but please don't flame it within the reviews._

Thank you for viewing - you mean the absolute world to me, and with you guys, I will continue to enjoy writing and uploading things like this. - Ellis. xxxx


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